Page 56 of When Stars Fall

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ellie

Ten Years Ago

When we get to the VIP area of Club Cobra, I’m sober enough to experience a twinge of nostalgia. We haven’t been here in a while, but this was the first club I went to with Wyatt and Isaac. Squeezing Wyatt’s hand, I can’t believe we’ve been together for three years. He grins and then draws my hand to his lips. Darkness sits on us like a cloak. The lack of lights is one of the things I remember Isaac saying he loved about the club. Someone could trip over a friend and never be sure who it was.

“Do you see Isaac?” My high heels bring me close enough to his ear that I don’t have to shout.

“Not yet. He was coming with those assholes, though, so who knows?”

Bryson, Jimmy, and Aman. They came to the house a few times until Wyatt said he didn’t like them around me when he wasn’t home. The assessing gazes of Bryson and Jimmy made tiny spiders crawl over my skin. They surrounded me once when Wyatt and Isaac weren’t in the room. I tried to talk to Isaac about how they intimidated me, but he brushed me off, said Wyatt babied me. I needed a tougher skin. Then he took another oxy.

Kissing my temple, Wyatt says, “Drink?”

I nod, and he lets go of my hand to wander to the smaller VIP bar. Someone on the waitstaff could have taken our orders, but Wyatt’s not good at waiting. A hand slides around my waist from behind, and I catch a whiff of familiar spicy cologne.Isaac.

He holds a little vial close to my face. “You in?”

I check where Wyatt is. Still at the bar. I bite my lip.

“Come on. It’s not like he isn’t going to hit me up as soon as he gets over here. You never get high with us anymore.” His white teeth catch on the black lights, which are a club favorite.

Neveris a stretch. For the last four months since Isaac’s dad died, someone has needed to keep their head, and the urge to get high doesn’t burn through me the way it does with them. I like the drugs and the alcohol because I feel connected to Wyatt when we do them together. In the last month, Wyatt seems to have turned a corner, and while he’s still not back to normal, he’s closer than he’s been in a long time.

Instead of trying to explain this to Isaac, I follow him to a table crowded with other people—some I recognize, some I don’t. Aman, Bryson, and Jimmy are already there. Everyone looks wasted. Glancing over my shoulder, I search for Wyatt. He’s in conversation with a guy at the bar. He’ll talk to anyone. Bracing myself, I slide into the seat beside Isaac, careful to avoid Bryson and Jimmy in the process.

Isaac taps out the coke and divides it. Each person does a line in rapid succession, the usual routine. Before I do mine, I’m distracted by Isaac’s gaunt profile. He hasn’t been sleeping. He’s in the living room at all hours of the night doing who knows what. I’ve tried talking to him, but he sidesteps my questions. He’s a car accident in slow motion. Isaac’s dad’s death caused him to swerve. Now I’m waiting for the sound of the crash.

“You all right?” Isaac asks in my ear.

Snapping to attention after being lost in thought, I realize everyone is staring at me, expecting me to do my line. Without checking for Wyatt, I do it. Isaac wants to see a tougher skin, someone who is more fun, and I can pretend.

Wyatt appears now and slides my beer across the table to me. When I glance up, the coke hits me hard. He makes no effort to disguise the pissed off expression on his face. He hates when I get high without him. Sipping his beer, he scans the crowd.

Isaac chuckles beside me. “I find the two of you highly amusing.”

“Why’s that?” I ask.

“’Cause he loves you so damned much. It’s a beautiful thing to see.”

Isaac leans in, and his eyes are dilated. I giggle, even though I’m not sure what’s funny.

“I’m glad I like you. For years, I worried. I didn’t like any of the women he dated before you. Not one.” He bumps my shoulder and grabs my beer, taking a sip. “But you’re this tiny little flower. How could anyone not like you?”

“I’m a flower?” Another giggle escapes me. I close my eyes and rest my head against the back of the booth.

“The most beautiful flower in the whole world.” Wyatt slides in beside me, and he tips his chin at Isaac. “Hit me.”

Isaac divides more of the coke after giving me a knowing look. Both do a line and then Wyatt pulls me across his body so I’m straddling him, pinned between the table and his chest. He can never stay mad at me for long.

He fluffs my hair. Whenever I curl it, he can’t keep his hands out of it. I bury my face in the crook of his neck. As he plays with my hair, my brain jumps from one thing to the next, never quite landing anywhere. I shiver, and Wyatt grips my ass, drawing me tighter, stroking my back as he chats to people at the table.

The coolness to my right draws my face out of Wyatt’s neck. Time is passing in a strange pattern of fast and slow. “Where’d Isaac go?” I search the club, but it’s useless with the black lights and my fuzzy brain.

“Off with Aman.” His tone is annoyed. He tilts his beer to his lips around the side of me.

I climb off him and rub my head, disoriented. “I wanna talk to him.”

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